Because people fear those who are different. And fear can make people do stupid things.

People say that time heals all wounds, and maybe they're right. But whit if the wounds don't heal correctly, like when cuts leave behind nasty scars, or when broken bones mend together, but aren't as smooth anymore? Does it mean they're really healed? Or is it that the body did what it could to fix what broke.

For the rest of my life?" His voice softens. "Do you want that, Ella May? Do you want me eternally, infinitely, forever, till death do us part?

Stay here, baby" he whispers, like he can read my thoughts. "Trust me, okay? Don't run

It hurts to be around life. People don't understand how close death is, right over their shoulders, around the block, at the end of a street. It's everywhere.

In the midst of a foggy field, the answers are hidden But the impossible journey deems them forbidden. The Reaper of Death, the Angel of Life. They walk together in day and night.

He knows what I'm about to say--he always does. He is my best friend, my soul mate. In a perfect world, full of roses and sunshine we'd be together, but this is full of broken.